Willowbend Tales - Dedications, Prologue, and Chapter 1

DEDICATIONS AND AUTHOR’S NOTES

The following is a work of fiction. All names and events are fictional and any resemblance to any real persons or events are purely coincidental. Non-original content is used in a non-commercial and parodic manner.


The past two novels have had some interesting dedications, this year will be no exception:

To Barack Hussein Obama – because it would make the members of the fanatical right’s heads explode.
To my family – yup, still on the outs, still on my thoughts at times.
To my co-workers – thanks for tolerating me for another year.
To Kanye West – because I’m afraid he’ll interrupt me and tell me that Stephanie Meyer has the best books ever written.
To the voices in my head – they council me, they understand, they talk to me…
To the Canadian Winter Olympic team – because the commercials on all CTV-owned stations have gotten to me, okay?
To you – yes, you, the gentle readers, who none of this would be really possible.
To all the dead celebrities of 2009 – you all lived your lives like a candle in the wind…

That is all for this year. Enjoy

-Dane Woychuk
November 1, 2009
12:05 a.m.


Prologue: Guy Walks Into A Psychiatrist’s Office…

Darren Watson sat nervously inside the waiting room of Doctor Linda Welsh, the new psychiatrist he had finally agreed to see after years of going in and out of free clinics and ending what seemed to be years of frustration with the public mental health system. He adjusted his glasses and played with his hair. He picked up a magazine and leafed through its contents while a dark-haired young looking lady receptionist gave a quick look at him. The receptionist picked up the ringing phone that sat behind her desk. “Yes, your two-thirty appointment is here, Doctor Welsh,” the receptionist said with a slight Mandarin accent, “I’ll let him know your ready for him,” she said as she hung up the phone.
“Mister Watson? Doctor Welsh will see you now,” the receptionist said as Darren put down the magazine. He got up from the chair he sat in and walked towards the reception desk and the door on the right hand side. The receptionist got up and opened the door for Darren as he nodded in her direction, as if to say thank you. She smiled and went back to her duties while Darren took a deep breath and proceeded into the next room.

Darren sat down on an expensive black leather couch, tapping his fingers nervously again on his lap. A brown-haired woman - hair shoulder length and straight, and wearing a sensible gray business skirt and blazer over a gold dress blouse.
“Mister Watson? I’m Doctor Welsh”, the lady Darren would get to know as his new therapist Linda Welsh said to him as she extended her hand in a friendly gesture.
“Nice to meet you,” Darren said as he cleared his throat and shook Doctor Welsh’s smoothly-skinned hand. The two of them proceeded to sit down, facing each other.
“So?” Doctor Welsh started off, “What has brought you here today?”
“Many things I guess,” Darren answered. “I’m about to start writing a novel that is loosely based on my life and thought it may be beneficial to have someone to talk to about any of my old issues resurfacing and dragging me down like they seem to do.”
“Such as?”
“Well, I’ve been estranged from my family for the last five years. I haven’t had a significant romantic relationship in seven years, a relationship that left me a broken shell of a man that was on the verge of either a massive mental breakdown or suicide.”
“Sounds like you have a grasp on the issues that brought you here. I take it you have had experience in going through improving your mental health?”
“Yeah, and now that I am making some decent money I figured I could actually pay for someone who is decent enough and not going to leave me to another case worker because they got a new job offer.”
“That seems like quite the frustrating experience you’ve gone through.” Doctor Welsh said with sympathy for Darren’s plight.
“Yeah you could call it that,” Darren said. “Also lately I’ve been having some weird dreams.”
“What do mean ‘weird’?” she asked.
Darren took a deep breath and answered: “Well, one I remembered recently I was talking to my pet rabbit, who then talked back to me. Then I find myself in a parade in my old home town being pelted by small rocks and fruit by people I’ve know from that town while a marching band behind me played Bob Dylan’s ‘Rainy Day Women…’ Ya know, ‘they’ll stone ya when you’re trying to be so good…”
Doctor Welsh cut him off there “Yes, I’m familiar with that particular song. Were you in any altered state of mind before this dream occurred?”
“No, not really. Probably the most potent items I inhaled that night were some incense or the scented candles a friend brought over to help me relax and focus on my writing.” Dean replied back.
“Well, while I wait for your files to come from your previous therapist, I would like for you to keep a journal of any further dreams. Write down whatever you can remember – people, objects, any other image you feel is important. When we have our next session, bring the journal in and I’ll try to help you interpret these dreams.”
Great. Darren thought to himself. More writing. He then looked at Doctor Welsh and asked “Was there anything from this one that stood out to you?”
“Well, it could be that for whatever reason, you feel that various parts of your life will forever be scrutinized by those that you have forgotten about or you are forever carrying the burden of those who you feel have wronged you.” Doctor Welsh theorized.
“Well then,” Darren said as he placed his hands behind his head, “Why am I having these musically-inspired dreams?”
“In time, we shall both know why” Doctor Welsh replied back as she smiled a reassuring smile to a confused-looking Darren.


CHAPTER ONE – IN THE FLESH AND TAKING CHANCES

Dream Journal Entry #1

Mozart, my pet rabbit, and I were walking into an empty gym of a school. Don’t remember what the conversation was about but we found ourselves coming across a woman who I have never seen before. Mozart tells me to go talk to her but then I end up singing Pink Floyd’s “In the Flesh?”. Woke up and looked up the lyrics. Not sure of total significance yet. Investigate further…

The sun shone brightly into Darren Watson’s bedroom, in spite of the blinds being totally shut. Between the turning on of the alarm clock radio to an Edmonton radio station and the sun’s rays, Darren slowly began to wake up but not wanting really to get out of the bed. That though stayed in his head until he heard the telephone ringing in the main room of his two bedroom apartment. Sensing it could be important, Darren hopped out of the bed and quickly put on a dark blue bathrobe. Darren then picked up the phone and spoke into it, “Hello?”
The voice on the other end answered “Hello, Darren Watson?”
Darren replied back, “Yes.”
The voice spoke, “Hello Darren, MacArthur Parker, your agent calling. Listen, I just got your initial manuscript for this novel you want to do? Raven Effect? Love It!”
“Um, thanks. You do realize it is a very early draft and needs a lot more work to be done on it, right?” Darren asked his agent.
“Yes, but if the final draft is as good as this, well my friend this could be the one. No more weekly musing columns syndicated in Podunk town papers. We’re talking major publications, book tours, maybe an appearance on Oprah.” Darren’s agent answered with enthusiasm. “I’m hoping you can get onto finishing it within our timeline.”
Darren looked at a calendar on the wall beside the phone. “I’m sure I can manage” he reassured his agent.
“Great, I’ll be mailing more information and legal documents for you to go over, okay? Great, gotta go now. Call me when you got everything, ‘kay? Bye”
“Um, sure, bye” Darren said as he hung the phone up and looked around his empty apartment, save for Mozart – a long-haired brown flop-eared rabbit – who sat in a penned-off area in the corner of the living room area. The rabbit munched on a dish filled with alfalfa pellets as Darren looked around to see what the time exactly was. Noticing the time was well past ten ‘o clock in the morning and knowing he had an appointment to make, Darren sighed as he walked into the kitchen to get something to eat. Opening a cabinet for a box of cereal, Darren found a sticky note on the cabinet door that read “All out of Corn Pops, sorry man” and was signed by his roommate Phil Brookes.
“Dammit, Phil!” Darren muttered under his breath, “I wanted my Pops!”

The past year had been quite the change for Darren Watson, now a syndicated columnist with a random musings-style piece that originally appeared in his current town of Vegreville, Alberta’s local newspaper. Being coaxed by his roommate Phil, a former friend from Darren’s botched attempt of higher learning at the University of Alberta, Darren submitted a portfolio of his columns along with an assortment of random poems and short stories to a publishing house. The poems and short stories were published as an anthology and got Darren a step up in his writing career. Now he was facing a new task: writing a full novel that was going to a fictionalized autobiography entitled “The Raven Effect” – a novel he intended to use as a form of therapy for himself. Nearly eight years ago Darren had his heart broken by Gloria James – his first serious girlfriend. During that time, Darren flunked out of university, got into a verbal and physical fight with his father over that particular issue, and also found himself practically disowned by his family. Making matters worse was the fact that he would end up moving back to Vegreville, a town that was about forty-five minutes away from where his family still lived. While Darren still talked to his mother, sister, and brother once in a while on the phone or if they happened to bump into each other in town, the entire familial relationship was strained. The struggles with all of this nearly broke Darren mentally, broke him to the point of near suicide until one day when he met up with Phil – who was also going through a crisis of his own as his parents were recently killed in a car accident caused by a drunk driver. Both Darren and Phil felt the loss of family though brought upon through different circumstances, but it was that common thread that allowed them to help each other out.
Flash forward to today as the two of them lived in Willowbend Apartments, a pretty decent apartment complex in the town of Vegreville. While Darren worked on his writing skills, Phil worked on a myriad of hobbies which including photography and film-making. Films and movies had always been a passion of Phil, who worked the past five years as a clerk at a movie rental store, and Phil was always on the look for that one project that will take him out of small-town obscurity and into hipster indie film darling. After a short series of films that Phil placed on YouTube, Phil got the not-quite original idea of documenting the lives of those that dwelled within the twenty-seven suites of the place he and Darren called home, as well as filming Darren’s creative process as he worked through the final draft for “The Raven Effect”

Darren walked downstairs to the main lobby to check his mail and see if the latest in meager royalty checks from “Things Best Left Unsaid” – his short story and poem anthology – were finally sent out. Checking his watch to see how close he was to his appointment and leafing through the collection of flyers and envelopes in the mailbox, Darren noticed from a quick glance a pair of relatively toned and tanned legs. Darren stood up and saw one of his neighbors – Sally Goode – also checking her mail as well. Sally was wearing a pair of jogging shorts and a plain-white tank top, her long black hair done up in a pony-tail.
“Hey Darren,” Sally said with a bit of shortness in her breath as a result of her running.
“Hey Sally. Had a nice jog I assume.” Darren said, trying his best to make small talk with a woman he had secretly lusted over since she moved into the building.
“Oh yeah, totally felt the burn. You should come with me some time,” Sally said as she took a drink of water from a bottle she had in her left hand.
“Sure, only if you have a defibulator handy for the heart attack I surely would get within the first couple of yards.” Darren said with a bit of self-depreciating humor that he had been known for.
Sally just smiled and playfully punched Darren in the shoulder “Huh, well maybe talk to your friend Rocco and maybe between the two of us we’d get you into shape.”
“Yeah, maybe. Speaking of which, I’m off to meet up with Rocco. Catch ya later.”
“Sure, oh hey, before you go, could you or Phil babysit Cody for me this Friday? Going into Edmonton to meet up with an old friend?”
Cody was Sally’s ten-year old son. His father left shortly after Cody’s birth and Sally had been raising him practically by herself for most of her life. Darren occasionally looked after the kid for reasons that were two-fold and contradictory: one was that he was a nice guy who was one of the few believers in altruism; the second was that he wished it would somehow influence Sally into spending a night of passion together.
“As far I know one of us could,” Darren replied back to Sally as she made her way up the stairs.
“Okay, let me know for sure later tonight,” Sally said as she climbed up the stairs. Darren walked towards the lobby exit as he took a quick glance at the firmness of Sally’s backside and hoped to one day feel if it was as firm as it seemed.

“So just go for it already, man!” Rocco Davis said as he placed the three-hundred pound weights he was bench pressing down back into the holdings on the weight bench that Darren was helping spot for Rocco. Rocco was another friend of Darren’s, a man Darren met through his former job before quitting to pursue his writing dream. Rocco was now in the middle of pursuing his own dream: becoming a mixed-martial arts fighter. While not in the best physical shape of his own, Darren agreed to help Rocco with some basic weight training and unofficial coach. And in exchange, Rocco would try to help Darren regain some of the confidence that he sorely lacked from the day Gloria shattered his emotions into a million pieces.
“It’s not that simple,” Darren said somewhat defensively “You should know that about me.”
“It’s about confidence, bro” Rocco said as he sat up and wiped the sweat from his face and tattooed chest. “The ladies can sense how confident you are with the way you conduct yourself. They can sense stuff like that ya know? That’s the difference between me and you – you allow yourself to let things get you down too much and I say ‘two tears in a bucket, fuck it’ and move on.”
“Yes, and how has that helped you out in finding someone to spend the rest of your life with?” Darren asked.
“See? You’re too focused on finding the one who you wanna spend the rest of your life. Besides that concept is dead now. Nothing lasts forever, you gotta take what you get and roll with the punches.”
“I guess, but it’s just every time I read up on my old friends from school that are on Facebook, most of them are married, having kids, buying homes, travelling the world. Me? I’m nearly thirty sharing an apartment with a friend and a rabbit and no real prospects in love.”
“Don’t worry about others. Worry about you, yourself, and, uh… you?” Rocco said, slightly confused with what he just said.
“Thanks Rocco,” Darren said with a small tinge of sarcasm in his tone.
“Look, I’m meeting up with some other bros in E-town Saturday night, come with us and we’ll getcha hooked up.”
“What do you mean?” Darren asked.
“Well, we’ll hit the bars, pound back a few shots, and hopefully find some quality snatch for ya! Yeah” Rocco said as he pumped his fists in the air.
“Uhm, I really don’t drink and haven’t gone to a meet market in years.” Darren retorted back.
“Look, you gotta take chances, break out from your comfort zone, try something new. Trust me, bro!” Rocco said as he patted Darren on the shoulder.

“So, you’re going on a tail prowl with Rocco?!” Phil Brookes said as he and Darren conversed in the movie store Phil worked in. Phil was working on placing returned movies back on the shelves as he and Darren conversed.
“Didn’t give a definite answer, but maybe he’s right about some things…” Darren said with a pondering tone. “… things like taking chances.”
Phil stood in thought for a moment and did a mock shiver. “Well, he’s got you there. Maybe it is time for you to get out again and spread your wings grasshopper,” he said.
“Great, so you won’t mind coming along then right?” Darren asked
“Um, hello? Straight-Edge here!” Phil replied back “Don’t drink, don’t smoke…”
Darren interrupted: “Thank you, Adam Ant. Come on, Rocco is gonna probably bugger off with his fellow MMApes and leave me to fend for myself. Plus it could make for some interesting footage for your new project.”
“Hmmm. I do have a new fedora I’d like to break in.” Phil said. “All right, I’m in. Plus I have a feeling I’m going to have to be the designated driver and potential bail poster too.”
“Well, Rocco’s not going to be totally thrilled about you coming along, but I’ll deal with him,” Darren said. He then removed an envelope from his coat pocket. “Meanwhile today I got this, an invitation to a cousin’s wedding. I am contemplating going.”
“Why? To sit in a room with people you either barely know or people who have been convinced you’re the worst person ever?” Phil asked.
“I dunno, while I have accepted my role as persona non grata, I think I need definite closure to really move on.”
“Great, sounds like a brilliant plan. Now, are you gonna go alone or are you going to take someone with you?” Phil asked.
Darren thought for a moment. There was one person who might be willing to go along with this scheme: Emily Moore.

Emily Moore, another resident of Willowbend Apartments. She lived right across the hall from Darren and Phil. Emily worked as a practicing holistic healer and sales associate in the town’s only health and natural food store. The first day Darren moved into Willowbend, Emily brought over a welcome wagon-type basket filled with candles, incense, and homemade baked goods. Darren was drawn to her friendly smile and personality. The two of them always got along and in some ways, Emily was more of a closer friend than either Rocco or Phil was to Darren. But that was always Darren’s role with members of the opposite sex: always the good friend. It was like that through school and university until Gloria came in and ruined things for Darren. In some ways, Emily seemed to be a composite of every platonic girl friends Darren had, with the added twist that she was bisexual. That kind of intrigued Darren for reasons he had never fully understood in the sense in how someone could never know who they want to spend all of their time with. Though lately Emily seemed more attracted to women than men. With one exception: Darren. It was made clear though the first time they had sex, it was not going to be a typical relationship. It was going to be one based on no strings and none of the usual emotional trappings. Just pure physicality, whenever it seemed convenient for the two of them.
This night was not one of those nights as Darren and Emily sat outside on the balcony of her apartment, watching the summer sun set in the west Alberta sky. It was then and there Darren asked Emily about the wedding.
“I think that is against the rules we set for each other,” Emily said. “We agreed no actual dates.”
“Well, don’t think of it as an actual date,” Darren said in a timid yet defensive way. “Think of it as a friend helping another friend through a potentially hazardous scenario. That, and it could really freak out a bunch of square and narrow-minded people.”
“Hmmm, haven’t done that in a while”, Emily said with a smile. “What color should I dye my hair? Or maybe I could make a pass at the maid of honor? You know what? Despite the potential trappings of it being a proper date, why not?”
“Wow, to be honest I thought you were going to flatly refuse the whole idea.”
“Haven’t you learned anything about me over the past few years? Always expect the unexpected with me.” Emily said again with a smile on her face as she gave a little cute chuckle that reassured Darren that perhaps this whole wedding episode won’t be so bad after all.